This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Monday, 21 November 2011

the weekend

Saturday evening. I walked to the next town to check the bins. The bins in the next town are easy to raid and I have no competition there at all, it is a small town, still known as a village by some, and there are no homeless people there. It is a town with a problem of bored and destructive gangs of teenagers, but they don't do bins.

The walk there is alright, the sky is glowing with sunset and it is a nice cold clear evening. I get there and no-one is around, so I take a quick look in the bins and pull out some crumbly bread, some rather lifeless salad and some not bad cherry tomatos, I try to eat some of that.

Then I return to the bins, I have to be careful as there are still supermarket staff left, I get a bunch of bananas, one and a half of them are edible, so I eat. Then I find an unopened box of maltezers, some cans of coke and little bottles of fruit squash and some pot noodles. That will do for a haul. I scram.

I go to sit down, this place always makes me feel sad, memories, memories of my childhood, memories of my three friends here who I don't see any more, who I don't want to see, memories of the church across the road from where I'm sitting.

I walk slowly down the road, I don't want to, I walk to the place where my friend works, she doesn't want to see me, I don't want to see her, she tells me to come back tomorrow, I don't want to come back tomorrow, I write a letter to the other two old friends, hoping they can explain to her.

I walk back to the other town, I have to deal with some of the crazy teenagers on the way, they decide in the dark that I am a dirty old man because they can't see that I'm female and walking along minding my own business, this town always has had a problem with bored crazy teenagers, often as I walk by I see the police talking to them.

The sly is clear but a mist is forming round streetlights and headlights, it is getting cold, I can see the stars in the sky, there is no-one else out here, just miles of silence, miles of silence and the mist swirling over the tidal waters of the river as the tide ebbs, there is a stork in the water and a juvenile swan, probably one of the cygnets that was on the nest by the bridge earlier this year.

I am running out of energy and my feet are aching like mad, I will be glad to collapse into my sleeping place.
As I walk back into town I spot something, and I wonder if my eyes are playing tricks. A banknote.
Yes, it is a banknote. I stop dead, the doormen at a nearby pub look round curiously, but the banknote is now mine.
I am not hungry, there is a takeaway open that does a decent cup of tea, I can't eat their food anyway, it gives me indigestion, but I get a nice cup of tea, then I head back to my sleeping place and wrap up in my clothes and bedding as it is cold, I doze and drift and sleep and wake and dream, I dream that my brothers are happily running a farm but that our dad has just died and we are all grieving.

I wake up and it is a cold misty morning, the dew has wet my blankets and sleeping bags.  I get up early because it is Sunday and I am sleeping near the church. I go to McD's, I have some breakfast and a cuppa there, the cuppa means I now have six stickers for another cuppa, so I have another cuppa. I am alone upstairs in McD's, so I take my inhaler and pill and chest oil and I wash my face and neck with a face wipe. Faces and necks get dirty and greasy when you sleep rough and wrap up in blankets and scarves and things.

I go to the toilets and continue my washings, I manage to find my nail clippers and clip and wash my nails, nails also get very dirty when sleeping rough, and I have dirty nails. I change my underwear and socks, I wet wipe everything and put nice smelling moisturiser on, I brush my teeth and do mouthwash. I don't wnat to go to church smelling bad. These pubic toilets are the basic ones, not the nice indoor warm ones, so washing here is harder, it is cold and dark in here.

Nowhere is open until 10am at least, so I go to a church that I don't usually go to on Sunday, I have been once or twice, but their service starts at 9am and they do tea afterwards, so that will keep me amused until 10am. I get there late anyway and the steward smiles and tells me to wait and he will find me a seat when the priest has finished talking. He does. This church is ok, this is the church I fell asleep in the other night, they are always nice to me. I get propelled in the direction of tea and biscuits after the service, and then it is almost 10.15 when I escape, that doesn't give me much time as my church starts it's service at 10.30.

I dash up the road, hurriedly get a bottle of spray deodourant from the cheap and cheerful shop, I dash to the toilets and spray deodourant in my boots and trousers, there is no time to wash my hair as I had hoped to, then off I hurry to my church.

Church is good as usual, the pastor and his wife are rushing off somewhere but they stop to say hello and to offer a small food parcel which contains mini rolls, swiss roll and some little packets of cereal. Another lady who I know gave me a McD's card with 6 stickers, a McD's cheap meal voucher and enough money for the cheap meal.
There is tea and coffe after the service, all very nice, and then I wander back into town to get my meal. Sunday afternoons can be tiresome in this town, nowhere to go to keep the bad memories at bay, but today there is a funfair and entertainment in town because they are switching the christmas lights on. The entertainments in town have their uses, like free christmas pudding and mince pies and things. There is a lovely fireworks display at 4.30, which helps make up for me missing the November 5th displays. Then town is crowded with people leaving the christmas lights switch on.

I got a pair of gloves today, and some foam insoles for my boots, to help my poor aching feet.

I try to find somewhere quiet but out of the cold to read my book, I end up in the bushes of the council gardens, brewing coffee and reading, it is a bit dark to see in the street lights, so I go to the bus station for a while, then I head for church.

At church I get a cup of tea and a biscuit and I enjoy the service, then it is time to go back to my sleeping place. I make up my bed and tuck down, it is another cold night with either very heavy dew or light rain, I doze and sleep and wake, I cry in my sleep and this wakes me, I have been snoring, roaring, coughing and crying in my sleep this week and it is most peturbing.

I still have the bad memories and 'why was this allowed to happen's disturbing me every morning.

I get up in the early morning and go round to the council gardens and brew a hot pan of tea and then some strong coffee, and I eat one of the little boxes of cereals that the pastor's wife gave me.

Then I go to the toilets and have a good wash, I like my washing, I feel better for it.

I manage to get another cup of tea off the market stall and then waste some time in the library on a computer that crashes or freezes all the time, the computers in that library are not too good.

There is nowhere else to beg a cuppa today, I go in church briefly and then I climb aboard the bus and abscond to the other town where I can get better internet access.

shame and sadness, bad memories, I want to write down the closer, more recent bad memories rather than struggling to write about the island and the lead into the bad memories, but I don't know how without making the blog more confusing, I asked for advice as to how to but was just told that the blog is confusing.

I am here, using the better internet, hopeful that I know where to get a free cup of tea in this town, and I will enjoy being here until this evening, then I will return to the town where I sleep, then tomorrow morning I am moving on.

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